


Spooktober

by jennguji



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Autumn, Blindfolds, Blood, Chocobos, F/M, Festivals, Gore, Handcuffs, Horror, M/M, Mischief, Missing Persons, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Photography, Reader-Insert, Smoking, Violence, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-10-17 13:29:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20621807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennguji/pseuds/jennguji
Summary: Trying to get into the fall spirit with a collection of short Halloween/Autumn stories switching between Sam, Sebastian (Stardew Valley), Prompto, and Noctis (FFXV) based on theseSpooktoberprompts.





	1. Goop (Sam + Trick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a little dirty talk and a kiss. Otherwise, nothing too scandalous.

Sam yanks the rubber werewolf mask from his head and tugs the long red flannel sleeves off his arms. He shimmies his tattered jeans off leaving himself clad in only a pair of glow-in-the-dark ghost boxers. He tosses his costume in a pile behind the door. Running his fingers through his damp blonde locks, he lets the cool breeze blowing in from the open window dry the lingering sweat from accompanying you home after the party.

The silky smooth sheets wrinkle under Sam's body as he sits down on the edge of your bed. His palms drum excitedly on his bare thighs. The mattress squeaks under his weight as you position him a bit further back.

"You sure you're good with this?" you fold the soft cloth in your hand into a long rectangle.

"Hell yeah, babe! This is hot as fuck!" he exclaims with an enormous grin.

You smirk and lean in to tie the blindfold around his head. Sam sees his moment and wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close. He nibbles gently at your bottom lip and his tongue slips into your mouth. You reciprocate for a moment before wagging your finger and pulling away. You wrap the orange and black cloth over his eyes, carefully knotting it in the back, making sure it's tight enough not to slide off.

"Nu uh, loverboy, that's why I have these," you tentatively jingle the cuffs around your index finger.

"Actually, you know what, let's do this somewhere with a little more space. Follow me," you take Sam's hand, leading him out into the kitchen.

Seductively tracing your fingers along his bicep, you turn him around and snap one of the metallic cuffs around his pale wrist clicking it shut. Sam lets out a low rumbling growl, and you run your fingers enticingly down his back. You kiss the back of his neck and attach the second cuff to his empty wrist. He attempts to pull apart his arms but is met only with the clanking chain.

"Can you see anything?" you query, stepping over to your refrigerator.

Sam enthusiastically shakes his head, "Are you sure I shouldn't be lying down for this? In the movies they always put the cuffs on the bed posts."

"Nope, this is exactly how I want you," you whisper before gliding a loose piece of ice over his chest.

He shivers mildly as it melts and drips onto the floor from his body. You ask if he's ready for more. You don't wait for a reply as you slide your finger along the elastic waistband of his underwear. He excitedly mumbles a swear under his breath. You ease the stretchy band forward and unceremoniously dump a pie tin of cold leftover pumpkin goop down the front of his bottoms.

Sam screeches, and you hastily yank off the blindfold.

"Steal my candy apple again and see what happens," you cackle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revenge is a dish best served cold, Sam.


	2. Run (Sebastian + Fog)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little chasing and spooks (and smoking since Sebastian).

Sebastian flicks away the ashes of his burning cigarette before inhaling his next puff. You stand in front of him before scooting closer to nuzzle your face into the comfortable cotton of his hoodie and bury your hands in the frontal pouch for warmth. His familiar smokey vanilla fragrance lingers in the fabric. As you close your eyes, you feel his breath steady in your ear. He tosses the glowing butt from his fingers and runs his hand gently over your back.

"Time to get you home," he tosses his head to the side in an attempt to force his overgrown bangs out of his face.

The crisp chill of the air bites at you when you pull away from him. Leaves crinkle under your boots, and you kick them playfully watching as the thick foggy layer blanketing the ground swirls with the motion. Sebastian follows next to you, glancing over his shoulder and sliding his hand into place across your lower back.

The fog billows around the soft yellow light illuminating from the last of the street lamps on your path. You dig around your work satchel and finally drag out a flashlight. After shaking it a few times, it eventually gleams to life. Gravels crunch under your steps as you squint to make out the trail leading your way home. The fog swims around you, and you senselessly try to fan it away. You glance at Sebastian, who's been eerily silent through the excursion so far.

"Seb, what's up?" you ask noticing how tightly he's been gripping the back of your jacket.

He doesn't answer and continues walking the beaten track. His silence speaks volumes so you carry on quietly. An owl hoots in the distance joining the ensemble of crickets chirping in the early fall night. Sebastian's foot catches, and he stumbles over an old rotting root. You stop to ask if he's alright, but his hand pushes heavily against your back.

"Just run," he whispers barely audible over the rustling limbs and leaves.

Before you take a moment to process, he's grabbing your hand and dragging you along next to him. The rickety wooden gate slams open with an intense impact and a distressed crow caws as it's forced from it's resting place.

You accidentally drop the flashlight in your field just below the stairs. Trembling fingers fidget with your keys before finally turning the knob. You burst through the door, and Sebastian slams it shut and latching the bolt. He hits his knees on the floor, gasping for air between coughing spurts. You rush to the kitchen and grab him a glass of water. His hand shakes as he takes a sip and sets it on the table next to the door.

"Look," he gestures toward the small window in front of you.

Anxiously approaching the door, you catch a glimpse of someone, or something, awkwardly shuffling and lurching around in the fog in front of the flashlight. Sebastian hugs you from behind as a small comfort after catching his breath.

"It was following us the whole time. I think I'll be staying here tonight," he states, unable to peel his eyes away from the moving mass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I would have liked him say something sooner or not.


	3. Supplies (Sam + Zombies)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some blood, guts, gore, and typical violence against zombies.

Sam swings his ax and immediately brings it down through the zombie's rotting head. Using his foot for leverage, he holds down the remnants of the face and jerks his weapon free. Fleshy chunks drip down the blade as he stands triumphant over the corpse. Sweat beads on his forehead, and he wipes it away using his dirty forearm, leaving a trail of dirt and blood behind. His emerald eyes sparkle while he smiles and jogs your direction. Despite the gravitas, his unwavering spirit still shines through.

He pulls a handkerchief from his back pocket and offers it to you. You wipe the disgusting debris off your hands and run the cloth across his mess of a face.

"Thanks, babe," he grins, stuffing the handkerchief back in his pocket. He picks several rotten chunks from his shirt and now sleeveless denim jacket.

You shudder at the wet plopping sound as he drops them. The intense sickly sweet aroma of decay lingers around your nostrils. Sam kisses the back of your head and pats your shoulder.

"Grab what you need, we gotta go," he walks away, stuffing the few supplies he can find in his backpack.

The Joja Mart was one of the first places ravaged, but fortunately Sam knew a couple secret storage areas with his time working there. You gather the things he can't carry and follow him to the back exit.

"Hey, wait here. I'm gonna go check the delivery truck. They kept spares in the tire well after Shane kept losing his," he whispers before advancing in a crouched stance. He swiftly sneaks to the vehicle and feels around on the metal above each tire.

He crawls out of view to the opposite side of the truck. Your hands clench in anxiety. Your heightened senses take over, ready to alert Sam of incoming danger. There's a muted rustling, and Sam returns holding up a small black container. He grips it tightly in his fist, pumping it silently in the air, and winking at you.

The metallic screeching from the back door of the truck grates on your ears. Sam hoists himself inside, and you wait for him to call you over. There's a heavy thud. Going with your gut compulsion, you stand up and run over to see what's happened. Sam is lying on his back, his clothing and hair drenched with a dark crimson blood. Next to him lies a crumpled mess of one of those undead.

"Blood's not mine, don't worry," he waves his hand in the air nonchalantly before pushing himself up. "Nothing in here though, so I guess it's time to head back to base."

You offer to help Sam down from the back of the truck, but he recklessly jumps down without assistance.

"Shit, forgot my bag. Gimme one sec," Sam sputters, returning out of view on the opposite side.

You wait patiently, keeping guard while Sam rustles around in his bag. After returning, he places a cap on your head and gives a soft shove for you to join him. You adjust the brim of the newly acquired cap and stay close along Sam's right side.

As the day draws to a close, Sam gets the fire lit, and you shove an opener into a can of food. Sam hunches over staring away from the light, and you softly hustle over to take him his dinner can. When he hears you approach, he tries to tie his handkerchief bandage back over his forearm.

"So it wasn't a fashion statement?" you ask reaching out for his hand. "Let me clean that scratch up for you."

Sam instinctively slaps at your hand to keep it from making contact. The handkerchief falls to the ground displaying a gnarled set of teeth impressions dug into smooth skin of his forearm. You gasp and involuntarily distance yourself. You murmur his name through your quivering lips.

"Probably a bad time to ask what's for dinner, huh," he sighs with a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't picture Sam doing anything but cracking a joke.


	4. Alone (Noctis + Disappearance)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis invited reader to be his date the Autumn Gala.

Noctis would have been picking you up in two hours as your date to _Lucis's First Annual Autumn Gala_ scheduled for that night. Unfortunately for him, plans changed.

He arrived shortly after dusk with the sun swimming in pinkish orange hues. He carefully tidied his suit tie as he approached the doorway to your Lestallum apartment. The obnoxious buzzer of a doorbell irritated him, but he let it slide this time. It was going to be a perfect night. He rang it again after getting no response on his first attempt.

"Hey, you need some help or something," he leaned into the door and quietly called upon ringing the buzzer a third time.

One of your neighbors popped her head out of her window, "Can you stop with that racket?"

Her eyes widened comically realizing how handsome the man standing there happened to be. She quickly adjusted her tone, "I haven't seen '14' today, sorry. Excuse me, sir."

As quickly as she'd shown up, the woman was hiding away in her apartment once more. Noctis ignored the color rushing to his cheeks and returned to the Regalia. The glove box was in disarray since Prompto had been driving the car more than anyone lately. He groaned, digging through the wads of paper and photos until he found a tiny sealed envelope.

"**Noctis ;)** ♥"

The flap tore open with ease, and he poured the key into his white-knuckled grip. You'd given it to him as a birthday present. He'd been too nervous to actually use it yet, but he hoped this would be a good chance for him to get used to letting himself into your place in the coming weeks. He flushed thinking of late night rendezvouses with you and quickly shook the thought from his guttering mind.

Focus, he scolded himself and stopped once again in front of your door. He didn't want to deal with anyone else so he knocked again a little more softly than intended. Finally, he jiggled the key into the knob. The latches on the door creaked as the door slowly slid open in front of him. Confusion furrowed in his brow. He called your name. When there was still no answer, he hesitantly took his first few steps into the room.

A gentle breeze blew through the curtain of an open window greeting him. He called for you again. Nothing was out of place or broken or missing (to to his knowledge at least). The bedroom door stood as open as the rest of the doors he'd checked trying to find you. Empty. The entire apartment was empty.

Frantically dialing your number, he didn't wait long before he hit his knees on the carpet. A ringing arose from the couch across from him. He hung up the call and knelt there.

As the time marched on, he waited alone in your empty apartment. Eventually, his concerned friends began to call him. His phone sounded distant like even if he wanted to grab for it, he wouldn't be able to reach. He knew that the next time he spoke he'd have to admit a terrifying truth.  
  
His friends showed up upon the prince's prolonged absence. They quietly coaxed him away, biding their time until he would tell them what was going on. His dry throat rasped his voice, barely able to ask the simple question of whether you'd shown up without him at the event venue already. That had to be it. You were there waiting, and you'd probably be pretty steamed with him being so late. He friends sorrowfully dashed his dreams, and he hung his head shamefully.  
  
They reached the palace, his friends immediately getting him excused from the night's activities. Helping him out of his jacket and tie, Noctis his hid lifeless eyes as he fell into the closest chair. Staring at the window across from him, he curled into himself for some kind of comfort. He gruffly cleared his throat before informing his party of his limited knowledge. He tapered off at the end, unable to finish. They all knew what he'd left unspoken: _you were gone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's up to you whether it was by reader's own choice or not.


	5. Cheeky (Prompto + Apple Cider)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto meets up with you at a fall festival with chocobos.

Twinkling white lights blink brightly across the billboard announcing the newly implemented **Fall Chocobo Festival** at the Wiz's Post. The parking lot is packed, but Prompto finds a tight squeeze for the borrowed Regalia. Thrumming with excited energy, he fastens Lokton's lanyard around his neck and quickly takes a glance at his golden blonde locks in the rear-view mirror.

He weaves his way through the diverse crowd, apologizing profusely as he inevitably bumps elbows and shoulders with innocent bystanders. You watch as he grows ever closer. His smile beams as he catches sight of you under the canopy of the face-painting tent. He animatedly waves and shuffles over.

His eyes sparkle under the fairy lights as he takes in the glittery hand-painted leaf on your cheek. He automatically snaps a photo while exclaiming how cute you look.

"Sit," you usher him down into the padded metal chair you'd just risen from.

You plop him down and point to a design in the artist's character book. Prompto's brows furrow in confusion as you lean in to whisper something to her that you don't want him to hear.

"Hey, that's not fair!" he pouts, crossing his arms and feigning annoyance.

"I know," you wink and gently run your fingers through his soft and messy hairdo. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

You scurry off for the restroom while he awkwardly attempts small talk with the woman decorating his face. He asks her simple questions, and she politely answers while trying to hold his face still as not to ruin her work. Eventually, she pulls back and inspects her art. She adds a few glittery details and informs him of your request to not see it without you.

You rush back to the booth where Prompto is waiting. He pulls his camera from his neck and solicits the artist take a photo of the two of you. She obliges, and you snuggle in close to his side with a huge smile noticing the slight blush dusting his cheeks.

You join hands and wander the festival grounds. The highlight of the night is definitely Prompto enthusiastically coo'ing at some baby chocobos waddling around in the fallen leaves. He buys a couple souvenirs and finds a quiet table away from the music and noise to sit and enjoy some warm apple cider with you. He blows away some of the steam before taking a small sip. You lean your head on his shoulder and get comfortable as he flips through the snapshots on the camera's screen.

When he finally arrives at the photo of the two of you together, you quickly steal his attention by kissing the tip of his nose. He stays distracted momentarily before going in to study the photo. He slightly gasps, and you burst into giggles knowing what he's seen.

"I've been walking around this whole time with a chocobo butt on my cheek?!" he gawks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It really is the hair, Prompto. ❤


End file.
